


Dissonant Verses

by DefinitelyNotPie, MysteriousObject



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Morristair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyNotPie/pseuds/DefinitelyNotPie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriousObject/pseuds/MysteriousObject
Summary: A series of moments will change course of their lives when Alistair and Morrigan are reunited at Skyhold after 10 years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks are represented by italicized sections.

_Alistair knew the moment they had locked eyes that Kieran was his son. The boy stared back with gentle curiosity before a smile broke across his face._

_“You’re a Grey Warden,” Kieran said with reserved enthusiasm._

Ah, that’s why he’s looking at me like that, _Alistair thought. He’d suspected that Kieran had, like him, felt that pull of familiarity. Recognized eyes similar in shape and identical in color, the same crooked smile. But, no. It was the Grey Warden insignia on Alistair’s armor Kieran had been drawn to._

_Alistair smiled back. “You are too,” he gestured toward Kieran’s shining griffon chestpiece._

_“Oh, no,” Kieran answered seriously. “I want to be one, and mother said it would be better than being a Templar but she doesn’t like thinking about that.”_

_“Ah, yes. Templars are the absolute worst, I’ve heard,” he chuckled lightly, casting a glance over to Morrigan, who had not taken her eyes off of him since he’d arrived in the garden of Skyhold. At his words, she rolled her eyes and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly, earning him a scowl that tickled a long forgotten fancy._

* * *

They were so close. 

“Go! I’ll cover you,” Hawke urged. 

Alistair couldn’t. “No. You were right. The Wardens caused this. A Warden must…” He trailed off, swallowing the acrid bile in his throat. 

Hawke shook his head. “A Warden must help them rebuild! That’s _your_ job.” He turned to the monstrous creature and snarled. “Corypheus is _mine._ ”

Alistair and Hawke met eyes again. They stared each other down, Hawke glaring, Alistair shaking his head and readying his sword. Both defiant, neither wanting the other to face this responsibility. To face it alone. 

“Alistair…” The sorrow in Evelyn’s voice was profound and Alistair felt sad for her. This was precisely why he couldn’t make decisions like this. Why he followed and never led. He could never live with this kind of guilt. 

He wanted to say something to ease Evelyn’s conscience - usually an involuntary joke would make its way out of him in times like this. 

But all he could say was, “Right. Good luck. I’ll keep it off you.” He could barely hear his own voice.  It sounded like it was coming from far away. 

There was no time for contemplation, no time for bitter thoughts, no time for regrets. And there was no resentment. All that mattered was that Hawke and Evelyn made it through that rift behind the… whatever in the Maker’s name this hideous giant spider thing was. A spider demon? 

His heart slammed against his ribs, pulsating through to his ears.  He ran toward the enormous creature.

“For the Wardens!” he cried. The spider demon’s eyes flicked back and forth, while some remained focused on the rift and some followed Alistair’s movement. 

Alistair charged and slashed and thrust, taking out as many eyes and dangling bits as he could. He knew that he was doing next to nothing to harm the creature. He hoped that he was, at the very least, being annoying enough to keep the spider demon’s attention away from the rift. 

Alistair was an expert at that, being annoying. Morrigan had always reminded him of such. Though most recently she’d commented on how he was less insufferable these days. He’d have to be sure to be extra bothersome now. _Who knew lives would one day depend on it_?  A laugh erupted from his chest through gritted teeth.

Exhaustion had set in hours ago and his second wind was waning. Alistair knew he was running out of time. There was no way of knowing if Hawke and Evelyn had made it out of the Fade, so he just kept attacking. He backed up to see if the creature would chase him. Up until this point it had been screaming and staring with its too many, creepy little eyes, and bleeding on him (which was disgusting)...but it hadn’t attacked. 

Until now. 

It reached for Alistair with fangs and legs. Though the spider had the potential to do some damage, it was almost too large and slow to make accurate strikes. 

His sword and shield felt heavy. Exhaustion caught up with him and he dropped to his knees. The spider demon flicked one of its legs at Alistair, knocking the breath out of his lungs and sending him flying into a wall of stone. 

His eyes lost focus but Alistair could hear the monster advancing toward him and he knew this was it. 

His sword was gone, but Duncan’s shield was by his side. He reached for it, held it close. 

“In death…”

Alistair was interrupted by an odd drifting sensation.

Then there was nothing. 


	2. Chapter 2

“ _ Alistair?”  _

_ Kieran’s voice was a welcome interruption to Alistair’s thoughts. He had been pouring over texts about Adamant, searching for anything that might aid the Inquisition when the time came. Somehow his studies led him to Morrigan’s doorstep, and the company of she and Kieran. Morrigan herself had been nose-deep in several tomes and they had passed the afternoon in companionable silence.  _

_ Alistair looked up from the stack of papers on the table and smiled at the boy standing timidly in the doorway.  _

_ “Yes? Come on in.” _

_ Kieran took a single step forward and asked, “Can I show you my room now?”  _

_ “Alistair is busy, Kieran. He’s still working.” Morrigan spoke gently yet firmly, not taking her eyes off of the page she was reading. She never spoke to him in a condescending tone, nor with harsh impatience, Alistair noticed.  _

_ Kieran did not protest but disappointment crossed his face.  _

_ “Oh, I could use a break,” Alistair stood up of the chair he’d just occupied for four hours straight  and shoved his papers towards Morrigan, smiling in reply to her scowl. He winced as he straightened out and shook the numbness out of his legs.  _

_ “What do you keep in your room, anyway?” Alistair asked as Kieran took him by the hand and pulled him away. “Anything I need to worry about? Snakes? A rabid nug? Oh, no. A wyvern?” _

_ Kieran gave Alistair a sideways glance that was a mirror image of Morrigan’s. He didn’t laugh but tiny smile lit up his otherwise serious face. “Nugs can’t catch rabies,” he said matter-of-factly. Also so very Morrigan. _

_ “Uh-huh. You’re not denying that there’s some monstrous pet you’re keeping. Unless you’ve got a griffon! Please tell me you’ve got a griffon.”  _

_ The room was mostly empty, with two beds covered in furs and a desk covered in books.  _

_ “Mother says we can’t carry everything with us, and we travel a lot, so most of our things are in a safe place,” Kieran explained as he reached under his bed and pulled out a small trunk.  _

_ “I can bring anything I can fit in here,” he continued, unlocking the trunk with a key he had pulled out from under his pillow. “I trust you, by the way. Otherwise I would have made you turn around so you wouldn’t see where I keep my key.” _

_ Alistair smiled, touched. “I am honored.” _

_ He watched Kieran carefully pull out a number of small, wooden figurines out of the trunk. He reached out and took one of the figurines Kieran was now offering. It was light and roughly carved but Alistair could tell what it was.  _

_ “Aha! So you  _ do _ have a griffon in here,” he joked.  _

_ “It’s not finished yet,” Kieran held his hand out and Alistair returned the figure to him. He held out another carving, this one more detailed, the Grey Warden insignia sharp and...a little lop-sided, but impressive. _

_ “Wow, these are great. Did Blackwall make these for you? I heard he’s into woodworking.” _

_ Kieran shook his head and pointed to the small tools he had in his trunk.  _

_ “You made these?”  _

_ Kieran nodded. “That’s you,” he pointed to the figure in Alistair’s hand. And continued,  _

_ “This is me, and this is Mother. I also made one of Mother in her fox form.” _

_ Alistair admired each piece one by one. “These are wonderful, Kieran. You’re quite talented.” _

_ Alistair looked back and forth between the three carved figures - of himself, Kieran, and Morrigan - and an unfamiliar sensation tugged at his heart.  _

_ Before he could figure out what exactly he was feeling, Kieran continued to show him the remaining treasures he kept in his trunk. There were beads he was carving to make a necklace for Leliana. Rocks and shells, and in a velvet pouch was seaglass that looked like a frozen, shattered rainbow.  _

_ For the first time Alistair saw Kieran’s smile reach his eyes.  _

* * *

Alistair came back to himself slowly. His eyes fluttered, struggling to focus. He was dimly aware of the fact that his face was cold. He remained still for some time, knowing only that he was Alistair and that his cheek was uncomfortable. 

Gradually, he remembered everything. Skyhold. Adamant. The Fade. 

He was laying face down. The cold pressing against him was the stone ground. 

And everything hurt. 

He shifted slightly and regretted it immediately. Every muscle in his body screamed in pain; searing, stabbing, pulsing in rhythm with the pounding in his skull. Everything except for his left arm, which lay numb and useless by his side.

He grit his teeth against the pain, pushing himself up enough to look around. He was still in the Fade, but the Nightmare was nowhere to be seen. Had it left him? Perhaps it thought he was dead, he certainly felt dead. If death was endless, raking agony. Okay, perhaps he was being dramatic, but really everything did hurt. 

His shield was just out of reach, but in tact, and he achingly reached for it. He took it in hand and slowly drew himself up to standing. 

_ Well, now what?  _ He wondered. Surely the Inquisitor and Hawke were long gone, hopefully back to the real world, and he was here. Alone. With no way out and nowhere to go. 

Despair set in as he took in his desolate surroundings. He was a bit put out that he hadn’t died in the attack, as it would have been preferential to this new existence he found himself in. 


End file.
